


paper clip

by bikenesmith



Series: spur of the moment prompted ficlets [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Birthday, Charles is a Tease, Coffee, Erik Has Feelings, M/M, Vague Handwave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 10:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14851028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bikenesmith/pseuds/bikenesmith
Summary: "this is the opposite of what i asked you to do."(erik doesnt Do birthday gifts. charles doesnt Do not doing birthday gifts.)





	paper clip

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by ikeracity from no.5 of this http://bikenesmith.tumblr.com/post/174552835975/prompts-list  
> trying to kick my ass back into writing. thx for the prompt ike!!!

Erik looks down at the box, carefully wrapped in fuschia and violet cellophane, and struggles to find the appropriate words. His mind sticks somewhere between gratitude and a obligatory sense of annoyance and what tumbles out of his mouth is,“this is the _opposite_ of what I told you to do.”

Thankfully, Charles is Charles, and possesses a wealth of understanding of Erik that reaches beyond the context of telepathy. As he reaches into the brusqueness of the statement, a warm smile spreads across his face. “You are so _very_ welcome, Erik,” he replies, tone wry. 

Erik tries not to look at Charles, and instead concentrates on his coffee cup. “Eric” is scrawled on the side of it in sharpie, an inside joke between him and the baristas. He’d thought nothing of it when Charles had insisted on treating them to their favorite mutant-owned coffeehouse this morning, but he should’ve guessed, from the giddy way Charles was looking at him and the secretiveness with which he was holding his messenger bag, that Charles wasn’t going to just _not_ do something for his boyfriend’s birthday. Erik’s requested a strictly “no gifts, no party” birthday and subsequently been ignored every year since they’d met.

He’d like to be more annoyed than he is about it, but it makes Charles happy to do it, and Charles’ happiness is always infectious.

Charles leans against Erik, and takes his hands in own, still warm from being wrapped around their respective drinks. Erik finds himself unable to maintain his disgruntled expression at that, and leans into him.

 _You’ve got to allow yourself to be celebrated_ , Charles sends, and says aloud, “Well. Open it.”

Erik sighs, and does, taking care not to rip the wrapping - “Thank you, that took blood, sweat, _and_ tears to do correctly,” Charles chirps - and uncovers a box.

A small jewelry box.

Erik looks up at Charles wordlessly.

“I would not propose to you on your birthday, Erik,” Charles says, exasperation clear in his voice. Erik sucks in a shaky breath, and Charles shakes his head. “I promised, nothing fancy.”

“You also promised not to get me a gift at all,” Erik grumbles, but he takes his word for it and pops the box open.

It’s a necklace, visibly comprised of fused together paperclips, with a ball of gray, nondescript metal as the center pendant. Erik gazes at it blankly for a moment, unsure what to make of Charles gifting him scrap metal punk jewelry he used to wear in his youth, but the tarnishing at the inside of the necklace and the overall shaky handiwork ( _clip ends too jagged to be comfortable, imperfect metal polishing from a lack of detailed control, dent you couldn’t fix from its previous state_ ) spark recognition in the back of his mind.

“Freshman year,” he blurts, and Charles grins.

“I gave this to you,” he continues, and Charles’ grin spreads. A real Cheshire Cat.

“For my birthday, if I recall correctly,” Charles hums. He leans against Erik’s side, and wraps an arm just above Erik’s elbow. “Not my style at the time, and hardly now. Forever cherished regardless. I could _feel_ how hard you worked on it.” 

Erik gets a flash of memory, sixteen year old Charles cinching the necklace in the morning, under his sweater, fiddling with it as he texts Erik late at night at Oxford, wearing it as a bracelet during his thesis presentation. Standing out against his crisp suit.

Erik swallows, staring down at the necklace. “I couldn’t afford to get you something nice.”

Something in Charles’ eyes flickers and he turns to Erik, expression softer, mind emanating solemnity.

“It was, quite literally, the nicest gift I’d ever received.”

Erik swallows and looks at Charles out of the corner of his eye.

“Even if it stabbed me in the neck under my clothes and made Raven think I had hickies for months,” Charles continues, face just as earnest.

Erik gives a short, barkish laugh, and Charles presses a kiss to his clothed elbow in return. Erik traces the contours of the necklace, sensing the metal humming through it, through Charles’ chair, his spine, the buttons on both their coats, and the nails in the booth.

“You _do_ like it?” Charles murmurs after some time, assured facade giving way to doubt, as it often does.  “I know you don’t like it when I spend money on you, so - I thought - I don’t know if it comes across well but it’s _supposed_ to mean - “

Erik silences him with a kiss, sifting a hand up into Charles’ hair. Charles allows himself to be held there for a few long moments. He slowly pulls away, smiling faintly and Erik murmurs, “Quite literally the nicest gift I’ve ever received.”


End file.
